Hayden School for Boys

Results day. Back at school after what felt like eternity away from there and from Art, after a couple of months of working, routine broken and the envelope in his hand he scarcely dared to open.

Simon drew a deep breath, met the eyes of the boy closest, and tried a shaky smile. "I will if you will?" he suggested, nodding towards the envelope.

Exams were over, and the heatwave was over. Dramatically over, with heavy rain and thunderstorms.

And Simon was out in it. Just as much as he had been in the sunshine, sprawled on the grass by the lake, soaking in the coolness and water, arms outstretched.

"Sir?" Arthur hung outside of Ben's classroom after the last class of the day, "Are you busy?"

Simon still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but was in his room with the curtains and door firmly shut well before lights out. Staying hard really hadn't been a problem - just the thought of Arthur's expression when he'd said what he wanted was enough to wake his dick up again. Not reaching into his boxers and wanking off was definitely more difficult.

Waiting was a bitch.

He didn't read for pleasure, so that was out. He didn't have a TV in his room. If he wanted a computer, he'd need to use the ones in the lab, so there went that one.

Simon sighed, cleared space on the floor, and started doing pushups to take his mind off his dick.

The Rugby team had won. The rugby team had won big against their biggest rival. It had been an annihilation.

It probably had had something to do with being the Monday after Easter.

But they'd killed the Knights and were enthused by the win. And the Headmaster had made a tidy sum on the side against Blossom Grove. Unofficially.

So there was a party. A not-pep rally in the great hall with music and food and laughing and no curfew.

He'd given his word. Teague had won, fair and square, and alright, so Simon had been distracted, but he'd still given his word, and that meant he had to follow through. And that meant that he was catching up to Arthur on the way off the pitch after practise. "Penten! Captain, can I talk to you, please?"

Arthur grabbed a fellow student by the back of the neck in a guiding way, leading him towards an empty classroom, "I need to borrow you for just a few minutes, thank you."

Callum's parties were kind of like an orgy-- no one was exactly invited; they just knew to come. So once word got around (through chin-jerks, whispers, and the occasional fist-bump) that there was going to be a party off grounds, all that was left to do was get everything set up.

"Everything" included alcohol--both beer and all the hard liquor two enterprising teenaged hoodlums could drum up--townie girls, music, food, and some illegal substances that stayed well out of sight.

There was even a bonfire, though it was carefully set up, and a small plastic crate of things to fuck around with if the night got too dull. ..Including a bowl of condoms Callum had purchased, scowling little faces scrawled on them in black marker.